Eyeballs
by SwedishIce
Summary: Oneshot A weird one I was lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, breaking his stuff, and stabbing his eye. Quite honestly, it was the most fun I'd had in weeks. Warnings inside


**Eyeballs**

**I have this picture of Bakura... Stabbing an eye... So yeah :3 it got me thinking and I thought of this. It's short, but eh... **

**Warning: Violent. Weird. One slightly bad not even the horrible everyday word**

**Disclaimer: I don not own Yu-Gi-Oh. Would they be doing this if I did?**

I was lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, breaking his stuff, and stabbing his eye. Quite honestly, it was the most fun I'd had in weeks. Allowing a look of amazement to cross my face, I stabbed the dark brown eye, rolling it slightly forward so I couldn't see the pupil. Stretching, I let the prongs sing slowly into the throbbing whiteness, sinking just slightly. It was very beautiful, ignoring the fact that the millennium eye was near it. That eye would always be prettier then this pathetic one, gold and shiny, but this was still nice. These eyes, otherwise owned by my host, were a deep brown, derived of all light and taken cruelly from reality. It was for that reason I spent a moment looking into them, quite proud of myself. That ended as quickly as it had started, my attention wearing off.

Pleasurably, I brought the fork close to my face. How oddly round they eye was: it looked far too perfect. How could a host so pathetic hold something so utterly clean cut? He wasn't good at all: a total mess if you asked me. Why did he get the fun of having this nice, round eye in him? It made no sense, but it didn't have to. Now the eye was mine. I held the perfection, able to do with it what I please. So, I popped it, simply by sinking the metal farther into the white. It exploded almost exactly afterwards, falling onto my face and around the walls. (A/N: Can eyeballs pop? I don't know...)

I instantly missed it. My host had two eyes though, right? Where was the other one? Leaning up slightly, I scanned over the bed for another all too clean socket. Instead, my eyes met the clear gold of the millennium eye. I grinned, several ideas exploding in my head about what to do. Choosing the easiest one, I picked up the eye and tried to stab it too. It had worked with the other one after all, and ended with such pretty results. Unfortunately, the fork did not sink in. Instead, it sent the gold eye flying across the room, my chuckles chasing it even farther away.

With a sigh, I got bored once again. I wanted another eye to pop: it was fun. But where could I get another one of those? I blinked, realization hitting me. _I _had eyes. Two eyes in fact. As a demon, were eyes really necessary? I assumed not, deciding to holding the fork like a sword. With one thrust, I felt the cold spears plunge into my vision.

Laughing hysterically, I did it again, relishing in the pure pain of it all. I hadn't felt real pain in so long: I missed its purity. No one can fake pain correctly, making it the only real emotion in this damned world. You can pretend to be happy: my host used to, and everyone believed him. People can even pretend sadness without being accused of lies. But pain? Everyone can tell when it's fake. This was real. Letting more howls of amusement slip out, I started twisting the fork round and round. It was like one of those Marry-go-rounds my host adored so much! Oh how he would love to watch this one go. I twisted round and round till I could feel the slime seemingly melt down my face, filling in the pores of my skin. It felt good.

Of course, after giving one eye such a privilege, I had to give it to the other! Only this time, I had other ideas. Throwing my fork carelessly to the side, I took a long gaze at my hands. The fingers were long enough to reach the socket, right? Eh, only one way to find out. Sadistically, I dug my fingers into the side of my face, rendering me sightless. This only served to make me happier, increasing the speed of the gouging. I scrambled my fingers in the eye, eager to get all the perfection out of me. I was a demon: we were not perfect. I particularly prided myself on being mad. My host hated that, as he prided himself on perfection. Humans aren't perfect, and can never be perfect.

Finally content, I sat back in the bed, pulling my hands behind my head. That was all good fun, but it was time to get down to business

It was ok that I was blind. Tomorrow, I would be good as new, turning my visions and such into great stories for my next host. You see, as darkness, I can't die, and you can't win. Who knows: maybe you'll be my next host. You have eyes, don't you? No human deserves perfection.

**Like my use of the word _perfect_? I think I said it 5 times in one small paragraph**


End file.
